- Excuse me, are you recording with that thing? - My video blog upload. He's webcasting right now.

Olivia Morris, who officially would never go out with me, is dead. So is Jenny Randall and Marnie Cooper.

- Damn. - It's now official crime scene. Let's lock it down.

Shoulder me, shoulder me, shoulder me. Get it up!

- Show me. - Ok.

done with some flashy music video direction. And the kills gotta be way more extreme.

- Ehi, please. - Shouldn't have killed all those people; Trev. Gone and put it on video even.

- What? - Nothing, you just, ehm, you remind me of me.

- Fucking kidding me? - What?

Help! Help! Save me!

Promise me something. - Anything.

Oh, if you need me, you know where to find me.

No. It doesn't matter to me anyways, mom doesn't let me go.

It's cool to meet you...officially. I keep meaning to pick up a copy of your book, but...

Trevor called me last night.

- Just go. Trust me! - Ok.

- Kirby, let me in! - Charlie...

- Call me tomorrow, ok? - Right.

- Kirby, it's me! Please let me in! - Get away from the door, Charlie!

- I jumped. It scared me. - A fucking Facebook killer? You re kidding me right?